Your Heart Hearts Me
by Kira Loves
Summary: A more in depth look at the car scene between Shawn and Lassie from the season 7 premier. Shassie. One shot.


**A/N: A short one shot in honor of the beautiful Shassie moment Psych gave us in their season seven premier!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Psych, and if I did you can bet your ass Shawn and Lassiter would end up together.**

**WARNING: This is SHASSIE. Meaning it is homoerotic, portrays the character(s) as gay, it has fucking lubed up rainbows of gay in it, okay? Good.**

The night is completely pitch black. Perfect really for the mission that's about to happen. There's only a dim moonlight fading into the car, touching their hands and faces with generous highlights. Head Detective Lassiter still feels a bit miffed about Shawn bringing up the fact that Lassie and Marlowe have yet to do the deed but this subject comes and goes as quickly as Lassiter shoots it down. Now it's just a temporary quiet and he's about to wish Spencer luck when the other man decides to speak.

"Can I ask you something?" his voice is soft despite that almost ever present grin he wears.

"If you must," the stony cop responds reluctantly, expecting the most childish of questions.

"Why are you helping me, really?"

His smile falters slightly when he says 'really' and both that and the question causes Lassiter to pause. It's almost as if he has to think about his reasoning for all this but he knows he doesn't. He knows exactly why he's doing this, did all of this. It's no mystery to him why he sat with Shawn for the past numerous hours, from light into dark, planning and scheming. It's just a matter of wording it.

"I figured there was nothing on Earth that was going to stop you from going after your dad's shooter-"

"Right."

"-I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes."

"And?"

The younger man looks at the older sort of expectantly, his fist gently pressed against his coat, lingering toward his chest. His knuckles graze his neck and just under that is his pulse. Lassiter wonders what it sounds like, not just in this moment but in general. What does Shawn Spencer's heartbeat do on a day to day basis? Is it steady and strong like Lassiter's is? Or does it flutter around in his chest, an after thought of his boundless energy?

"And what? That's it."

Lassiter doesn't quite look directly at him. It's too dangerous to do that. Shawn has a habit of sucking him in, pulling him in further to whatever he's got going on in his head. But at the tail end of the cop's oh-so resolute statement, he makes the mistake of making direct eye contact.

"You care about me," Shawn says, that half smirk half smile on his lips.

"Get out of the car," Lassiter dismisses it entirely.

"Your heart hearts me," the persistent man says, his comedic timing not missing a beat much to the detective's displeasure. And that cheeky way the younger man goes about saying it, like he's child saying 'I know something you don't know.'

"Seriously get out of the car."

The reprisal of the statement leaves no room for argument. It's not just that Lassiter doesn't want to talk about this. It's not that the immature teasing makes knots in his chest and forces him keep muttered 'fuck you, Spencer's behind tight lips. It really is a matter of not having time to talk about it as well. If their plan is going to come to fruition, Spencer needs to strike now. The laced Chinese food would be kicking in at any second and Lassiter needs to get in a better position to oversee that the 'distraction' goes off without a hitch. There just isn't time for this tonight, not that there ever would be, but definitely not tonight.

"All right," Shawn says as he starts getting out of the car, "but if you just said it once aloud, I promise you'd feel free."

The door shuts and the teasing pest lingers in the rolled down window. Lassiter stares at his dash saying nothing because he knows that Shawn's right. Saying, at the very least, that he does care would make him feel free but for how long? Could the fake psychic promise him that he'd always feel free? Could he promise him that admitting it wouldn't turn against him? Make him feel convicted and like less of a man? And what if it didn't stop at caring?

What if it kept tumbling out, everything? Because Lassiter felt a lot more than care for Shawn Spencer. He also disliked him a lot, to the point that he's often hoped that Shawn would return to that hippie commune or randomly get selected to go overseas to impersonate Sherlock Holmes or some other form of ridiculousness. That part is easy enough to admit to, hell Shawn already knows he gets under the cop's skin. Lassiter's more concerned about the other things; like his respect and admiration for Shawn. How he secretly laughed when Shawn had made fun of the FBI agent or how that one time he got a high five from him made not just his day but his entire month or the way he still sometimes thinks about things like Shawn's fingers kneading his too stressed shoulders or how Shawn lounged in his lap when he was 'channeling' the showgirl.

Lassiter just doesn't want a repeat of that night, the one where'd he gotten hammered and started telling Shawn the truth about his feelings, how Shawn astounds him because Shawn shouldn't astound him. Marlowe should astound him. Marlowe should come in and out of his mind all the time. Marlowe should be the one the conflicted cop thinks about when he's touched or kissed. She should be but she isn't...Shawn is.

"I love you, man," Shawn says, trying to demonstrate how okay it is to admit to caring.

Lassiter starts to sigh even as Shawn drags out the statement a second time. It's all fun and games to the fake psychic but then most everything is. Lassiter speeds off, slight smoke coming from his tires as Shawn begins striding off to his mission. Their mission. Their hostile take over. Their baby. Planning something like that had to be the most fun Lassiter has had in a while, not that he'll admit to it.

The cop doesn't even end up staying to watch what goes down. Instead he sends Juliet a quick message to play back up, barely telling her more than to be ready to shoot. Lassiter intends to go home, go back to Marlowe, and then kiss her and hold her and try one more time. Maybe this would be it, maybe he could get Shawn out of his head long enough to make love to the beautiful woman he has at home. Even now though, the stupid half grin is in his mind and that taunting voice whispers into his ear as he grips the steering wheel.

_"You care about me."_

_"Your heart hearts me."_

_"I love you, man."_

_"I love you."_

**A/N: WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE TOGETHER? PLEASE PSYCH WRITERS, PLEEEEEEAAAASEEE! Seriosuly though, I cried multiple times after this scene because it was just -uh- too perfect. Review and stuff. Bye guys! :)**


End file.
